A Wedding in the Sun

Chapter 31

Adrián’s stomach was so empty it wasn’t even rumbling, it was creaking and sighing in despair. As soon as the adrenaline of the morning wore off, he realised he hadn’t had time to eat breakfast – or lunch.

He fidgeted through the bilingual marriage liturgy, drawing scowls from María Dolores next to them. She was living up to her name that morning, making him miserable.

Of course Mónica had chosen the wedding ceremony with holy communion and he swallowed a groan as the priest ritually placed the wafers on Mónica and Ben’s tongues. The lucky bastards were allowed to drink wine already, whereas Adrián would have to wait for the reception later.

A gurgling sound emerged from his middle during the silence after communion and he dropped his head in mortification. A choked snort to his right made him glance at Jo – to find her struggling to stifle a smile.

‘Is this funny?’ he asked her between clenched teeth, ignoring María Dolores’s sharp, wandering elbow.

‘I am sorry really,’ she whispered. ‘I know how you are about food. This has got to be the worst day of your life.’

‘Coming close,’ he choked, grasping his stomach as something seemed to spike him from inside. Was getting sick from hunger a thing? ‘Please let it be over soon.’

‘Where are the rings?’ the priest intoned grandly.

Adrián straightened, peering over the heads of the congregation to catch a glimpse of Oscar’s – and Crabface’s – big moment. But his son stood frozen to the left of the wedding party, his eyes enormous. The poor kid. He’d been through a lot that day.

Liss hopped up from the first pew and approached him, ducking to peer into his face. They exchanged a few whispered words and then Liss took the cushion and they headed for the sacristy.

Adrián stood suddenly, knocking Jo’s knees as he swept out of the pew and hurried down the side aisle and to the heavy wooden door that Liss and Oscar had disappeared through.

He met Mónica’s anxious gaze with a quick nod and went to see what had gone wrong. Liss looked up in panic when he came through the door.

‘He’s hidden the rings!’

‘What? Why?’

Oscar burst into tears.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Adrián dropped to his haunches and tugged Oscar to him in a loose hug. ‘It’s all right, cari?o. It’ll be all right, but we need to take the rings to Mamá.’

‘I’m s-s-sorry,’ Oscar hiccoughed.

‘It’s okay,’ Adrián crooned, tucking Oscar’s head into his shoulder. ‘I know you have a lot of feelings right now.’ He caught Liss’s eye and jerked his head in the direction of the door. ‘Tell them to sing a song and I’ll find the rings as soon as I can.’

Brushing Oscar’s hair back from his face, he stroked his thumb down his son’s cheek and gave him a weak smile.

‘You missed your chance to object to the wedding, mijo,’ he joked. ‘Are you that upset that Mamá and Ben are getting married?’

‘What?’ Oscar asked, scrunching up his nose. ‘I don’t mind Ben. He lets me watch TV all the time.’

‘Ah… great,’ Adrián said with a grimace. ‘What’s the matter with the rings then?’

‘I thought it was a treasure hunt,’ he said, his eyes widening. ‘I saw the gold things in here and I thought everyone was supposed to go looking for the rings.’

Adrián sank his head and laughed – loudly, because the organ was playing outside, drowning out the mumbled hymn. ‘That makes perfect sense. I love it. If I ever have a wedding—’ Those words produced a sudden strangling sensation in his throat as he immediately pictured Jo waiting for him at the altar. It would be on the beach somewhere, with casually dressed guests sipping cocktails and Carles playing the guitar.

Wow, that was getting a bit ahead of himself.

Clearing his throat, he said, ‘If I have a wedding, we’ll have a treasure hunt. It sounds like the best idea. But for now, can you tell me where you hid them?’

Oscar pointed out a row of gold cups tucked on a shelf at the back of the room and then ducked his head in renewed shame.

‘It’s okay, mijo. Really. Here,’ Adrián said, straightening and opening the door just wide enough for his son to squeeze through. ‘Go back and sit with Liss. I’ll put the rings onto the cushion and bring it out to you.’

Oscar scampered off towards the front pew and Adrián let the door swing heavily shut – with a sharp clang he hadn’t expected. Turning with a frown, he saw the ancient brass doorhandle lying innocently on the floor.

The statue of Mary up on the wall did not approve of his language. All he wanted was this wedding over so he could?—

Say goodbye to Jo for good because she didn’t want to date when they got back to London? God, maybe he should be wishing the infernal wedding never came to an end. But if he was stuck in this little room, he’d miss out on his last few hours with her.

Of course he wouldn’t be stuck, he reasoned with himself. There was a perfectly functional handle on the other side. He’d just have to knock.

With a grimace, he rushed to the back of the room for the rings, feeling like Indiana Jones as he searched in the various golden chalices for Oscar’s hiding place. Of course they were in the one tucked into the corner that was less ostentatious than the others, which showed Oscar’s keen sense of a good hiding place – or perhaps Ben had let him watch Indiana Jones, he thought with a frown.

He was contemplating with chagrin the necessity of disturbing the wedding once more by hollering to be let out, when the door swung open with a blessed screech and Jo stood there, a puzzled frown on her face as she studied the other side of the door handle which she now held up in front of her.

With a shrug, she stepped over the threshold to join him in the room. ‘What’s taking so?—’

He lunged past her, fumbling for the door and finding no purchase on the wood panelling before it banged heavily shut. Overbalancing, he went tumbling into the door with a thump. He finally steadied himself with his good arm and took a few panting breaths, dropping his forehead to the wood.

‘Fuck,’ he muttered.

‘Aren’t you worried about swearing in front of Mary?’ Jo asked with an amused smile.

‘She’s used to it,’ he snapped. ‘Why did you let the door shut?’ He gestured sharply to the other door handle, lying on the floor. ‘Now we can’t get out from inside and they can’t get us out from outside!’

‘Shit!’ she said, without even a guilty glance at Mary.

‘I have the rings!’

‘Oh, God,’ she muttered, rushing for the door and pushing ineffectually at it, studying the sides and finally giving it a sharp rap with her fist. ‘We’re stuck in here!’ she called out.

‘Someone help!’ he joined in, repeating himself in Spanish and banging on the door with her.

When the organ music finally died down, they heard scratching at the door and then Alberto called out in Spanish, ‘We can’t open the door. If you have a credit card, you could try to push the latch. It won’t work from our side.’

Adrián rummaged in his pockets for his wallet, frowning when his hands came back empty. ‘My wallet is in my other shorts,’ he groaned.

‘I left my handbag in the pew!’

He flashed her an alarmed look. ‘Why did you do that?’

‘I didn’t think María Dolores would steal it!’ she snapped.

‘Dios, we’re going to be in here for hours, aren’t we? I’m going to have to eat all the communion wafers.’

‘And I’ll drink all the wine,’ Jo mumbled. She turned to him suddenly, grasping his sleeve. ‘You don’t think not having the rings could stop the wedding, do you?’

His heart leaped into his throat. ‘I hope not! Maybe we can slip them under the door.’ He dropped to his knees, placing the rings on the floor and peering at the tiny gap between the door and the tiles.

‘Wow, this thing is chunky,’ Jo said, lifting Ben’s ring and weighing it in her hand. ‘Must be solid platinum.’ She snorted. ‘He lost his wedding ring during our second year of marriage because he kept taking it off, saying it wasn’t comfortable.’

‘I never understand that!’ Adrián grumbled. ‘Why do wedding rings seem more comfortable to women? You get used to it!’ He met her gaze with determination. ‘We have to get these out so the wedding can go on.’

Glancing around the dim sacristy, Adrián was disappointed to find there wasn’t even a window – not that anyone would have been able to reach it from the other side and they certainly couldn’t have climbed out.

‘Where’s that light coming from?’ Jo asked, looking at the top of the small spiral staircase at the back of the room. Climbing the steps two at a time, she reached the top and called down to him, ‘There’s a little balcony up here! Quick, bring the rings. I’m right above the altar. We can lower them down somehow.’

‘“What light through yonder window breaks?”’ he quoted through his teeth, the line from Romeo’s soliloquy making him think of his disastrous conversation with Mónica and her aunts that morning.

‘What?’ she asked, peering down from the top of the steps. ‘Was that Shakespeare?’

He hauled himself up the stairs after her. ‘I played for a run of performances of Romeo and Juliet five years ago,’ he explained. ‘The guitar arrangement of the theme from the Zeffirelli film is nice. Maybe I’ll play it tonight.’

She gave him a questioning look – possibly questioning his sanity.

‘This is a Juliet balcony,’ he explained with a grin, peering over the railing. ‘Wherefore art thou, Alberto?’ Leaning further out, he waved his good arm and called, ‘?Aquí arriba!’

More swivelling eyes landed on them. Mónica looked one breath away from a complete swoon. Ben had his head in his hand and at least four aunts were scowling deeply as though they’d overheard all the bad language in the sacristy a moment ago.

‘I have the rings!’ he announced, passing them into his good hand and holding them up in a triumphant fist.

‘Don’t drop them!’ Jo cried in alarm, grasping his hand and tugging it back down.

The priest appeared beneath them, craning his neck. ‘I can catch them?’ he called up.

Jo peered down at the potted plants, the vases of flowers, the ornate marble altarpiece and the chairs lining the sanctuary. ‘We can’t let them get lost.’

Adrián met her gaze, wondering if her reasons for needing this wedding to happen were the same as his: because it was time to move on. God, he hoped so. ‘We can knot them in my tie and lower them down,’ he suggested.

A smile lit up her face. ‘Great idea.’ Then her hands went to work on his neck, the backs of her fingers brushing his throat and he was both entirely overwhelmed by everything he felt and blissfully content at the casual touch.

She glanced up to find his eyes on her, goodness knows what in his expression. He was a mess. He wanted the whole crazy chaos with her. He just had to find a way to tell her that would make her believe it could work.